


resonance

by berskur



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, a wild pun appears, just had to leave my mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berskur/pseuds/berskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masato and Tokiya slowly discovering each other's wavelength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	resonance

            “Good job everyone!” the staff thanked before packing their equipment and leaving.

            After a very tiring day, they had finally finished shooting it. Masato and Tokiya were appointed to record another episode of “Learning From The Past”, to which they were excited about and could not refuse. Masato always admired Tokiya’s passion for singing and how well he could convey his feelings through words both in Japanese and in English (something Masato couldn’t quite do it himself). On Tokiya’s side, he valued Masato’s hard work and his integrity, added to his unique talent of making words flow like petals in a mid-spring river. However, they never had true time dedicated to building and creating bonds, since both of their agendas were filled with meetings and rehearsals. Truthfully, it was thanks to the show that they discovered more about each other.

            And the second episode was no different.

            “I would have never imagined that you, at this age, had never tasted takoyaki,” Tokiya laughed softly, as he sat closer to Masato on the doorstep of their room, facing a small pond.

            “Ah, yes,” Masato hid his slight blush behind a quiet chuckle. “It was quite tasty, and I cannot believe it is so cheap.”

            “I must say, even if we reached the same point as a band, we do have different pasts,” Tokiya said, looking up at the starry night sky. At Masato’s silence, he panicked a little and turned to face Masato’s sharp profile. “I mean—,”

            “You’re right, Ichinose,” he nodded. “And we do learn from our past.”

            Silence filled the space in between them.

            “Was… Was that supposed to be a pun?” Tokiya tried voicing, holding back his laughter at how serious the other looked.

            Masato took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

            And there you would have two grown-ups, who were seen as cold and serious, laughing, tears almost prickling on the side of their eyes. Tokiya truly cherished these moments with Masato, because his laughter was too pure, as if it was a secret and he was the only one to ever see this side of him. As the atmosphere grew warmer and more laid-back, a spring wind blew their laughter away, small petals laying on top of their hair.

            “Ah, Hijirikawa,” Tokiya scooted closer as he brought a hand to Masato’s hair, brushing away the small flowers. His face was quite-not-so accidentally very close to the other’s, and for a miracle, both of their blue pools locked together. Masato parted his lips slightly, as if to murmur a thank you, but nothing came out. Tokiya’s long fingers were now softly caressing Masato’s hair and placing a few locks behind his ear, as he brought his lips closer and closer to the other.

            “Ichinose…” Masato breathed, whispered, murmured ever so quietly that it felt like his voice was only to be heard by Tokiya.

            As Masato blinked, Tokiya entwined his fingers in his dark hair and erased the few millimeters between them, sealing their lips together. Masato’s lips were soft against his, and despite the shock, he complied calmly, tilting his head to the side and placing his hand on the crook of Tokiya’s neck.

            “I’m sorry, I…” Tokiya murmured, pulling away a little bit, enough to look at Masato’s cerulean eyes.

            “It’s fine,” Masato replied, because it _truly was fine_ , it didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, which was quite surprising due to Masato’s pickiness. He felt comfortable around him, he trusted him, and he felt as if Tokiya was one of the rare friends that actually understood him. So it was fine for them to be there, kissing shyly under the moonlight at the sounds of small crickets around. And to prove to Tokiya, who was probably overthinking the matter at that very second, Masato pressed his lips against the other’s once again, feeling every inch of his warmth and kindness.

            Tokiya, then, took this as a sign to move on, parting Masato’s inviting lips and darting his tongue to meet with his, waltzing gently and slowly. He tasted like purity, integrity, _luxury_ —forbidden, if it weren’t for Masato’s cold fingers sliding under Tokiya’s yukata to grip on his shoulder for leverage. The action made the other shiver and exhale heavily in the kiss, bringing him closer and fully crashing their lips together, passion surpassing calmness. Tokiya never noticed how enticing Masato was until then, and the thought of being touched by his partner had never crossed Masato’s mind either. And there they were, enveloping themselves in a distinct aura, the sound of the crickets slowly fading away, tasting and discovering each other because _maybe_ words weren’t enough.

            Tokiya gently kissed the corner of Masato’s mouth, masking the breach of the passionate kiss, and planted one, two, three kisses on the underside of his jawline, breathing heavily and letting Masato know how precious his skin, his scent, his being was. And to every press of lips, Masato purred against Tokiya’s ear, his voice reverberating against its shell.

            “We should… inside…” Tokiya started, voicing right by Masato’s neck, noticing how chilly it was getting and how dangerous it would be if they were caught on act. Masato simply nodded, pulling away and getting up, extending his hand to Tokiya. It took the latter a minute to actually grab the hand, still struck at how Masato looked ethereal, even with slightly disheveled hair and reddened lips.

            Waltzing back inside and closing the door, Masato laid down on the futon, as Tokiya crawled on top of him slowly, eyeing every inch of Masato’s exposed chest. Then his sight traveled down, and settled for the timid but apparent tent that hid between Masato’s thighs. As his partner noticed it, Masato felt his cheeks growing warmer, embarrassed at the thought of having Tokiya looking at him in such a state.

            Tokiya, then, soothed Masato’s mind with kisses. First, he planted one on his blushing cheek, then on the shell of his ear, mouthing and making sure to breathe an “It’s okay”. He trailed a few kisses until he reached his neck, that beautiful, porcelain-like column that held the source of his silvery voice. Tokiya smiled between kisses when a throaty moan escaped Masato’s lips, which lit a fire within him to grind their hips together as he bit down and sucked a spot on the other’s clavicle. Masato wrapped his arms around Tokiya’s neck and dug his nails under his yukata, because _God_ , he hadn’t been spoiled in a long time.

            Tokiya’s deft fingers undid Masato’s yukata’s front slowly, making sure to leave it on, fitting the dignified image of the blue-haired one perfectly. At that point, Masato was quivering, trembling hands making their way to undo Tokiya’s blue yukata and leave his defined, not-so muscular chest exposed. He let out a breathy moan at the sight, caressing Tokiya’s body with his palm. Tokiya’s lips regaining the other’s smooth skin, mouthing kisses before lapping his tongue over a hardened nipple, eliciting a slightly louder moan from Masato, who was back at gently digging his nails on Tokiya’s back. Masato was actually aware of his voice, but had troubles keeping it down, especially when the thought of doing something so shameless clouded his not-so traditional mind. Fondling with the other, Tokiya pulled the reddened bud before moving to his perfectly slim, milk-white stomach. His lips descended as he planted a few kisses here and there, nibbling his navel.

            Tokiya then reached the waistband of Masato’s boxers, and he glanced at him to make sure he could go on, and Masato nodded, closing his eyes in anticipation. Tokiya mouthed dryly his erection, feeling every inch twitch against his lips, to which Masato responded by shivering and throwing his head back. It felt _too_ good, and for a second, he wondered how long had Tokiya seen him with these dark, hungry blue eyes.

            Masato’s shy, reddened cock sprung free as Tokiya lowered his waistband, eliciting a hiss from his partner as the breeze brushed against his sensitive member. The uncomfortable coldness was quickly replaced by Tokiya lapping his tongue around it, to which Masato almost unconsciously grasped his dark hair and bucked his hips upwards. His lips planted kisses along the shaft before parting and taking Masato’s warmth inside, switching between sucking the tip and wrapping his tongue around it.

            Masato’s body said "too much" (oversensitivity), his heart said "too little" (hidden passion), his mind was silent (fog). And yet, his heart spoke above all, as he casted aside every other thought that was preventing him from enjoying the blissful moment.

Masato pressed his quivering thighs against the side of Tokiya’s face, as the latter worked his length graciously. Every movement, every lick, every pull made Masato’s chest heave, which encouraged Tokiya to take more and more of his warmth, until his nose brushed against the tidy set of hair.

            There were no names, only noises and kisses, as if naming each other would dissipate the heavenly aura they had built around them. That is, until Masato moaned it.

            “Ichinose…!”

            And the serene atmosphere suddenly changed. Lust was filling the room to the brim, and both were inhaling, succumbing to it as their breaths became more and more uneven. Masato tightened his grip on Tokiya’s hair, alarming him that he was unbearably close. Tokiya, then, pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting it to the rigid member. He crawled back up, and pumped Masato’s cock in a quicker movement, as he locked his sight on the other’s cerulean eyes.

            “I-I’m going to…” Masato breathed, not taking his eyes off Tokiya’s heavy lidded ones, who quickened his pace and tightened his grip, feeling the skin rutting against his hand. Masato came with a loud, heavy moan, his come tainting his chest and his partner’s hand. Unraveled Masato looked even more beautiful than before, Tokiya thought, as he kissed him softly on the lips, moving them slowly to feel Masato’s trembling ones, still coming down from his high.

            Masato dodged Tokiya’s gaze and met the wetness between the other’s thighs. He, then, gently ran his palm on top of Tokiya’s chest, traveling down to his soaked boxers, feeling bad for neglecting him all long.

            “You don’t have to, Hijiri—”

            “I want to,” Masato replied, staring at him fiercely, to which Tokiya simply responded by reclaiming his lips, as he felt Masato’s hand reach for his cock.

            Every wet stroke elicited a husky groan from Tokiya, whose tongue was messily dancing with Masato’s. It took him a few breaths, a few moves and a few silent stares before coming onto the other’s chest, white strands painting the canvas of Masato’s body.

            Everything felt so quick, yet so slow, yet enough, and Tokiya couldn’t ask for more. Still holding himself on top of Masato, Tokiya saw a genuine, serene, a bit sleepy smile form as Masato’s lips pulled back.

            He kissed it, once, twice.

            “I’ll go grab a towel,” Tokiya murmured before getting up and going to the bathroom. When he returned, his eyes met Masato’s uncovered, pristine back. Masato turned his head in innocence, only to find Tokiya’s flushed cheeks and piercing gaze. He quickly pulled his yukata back up, pretending it didn’t happen. And Tokiya did the same, walking towards the other and handing him the towel.

            He didn’t say anything, but the way he grabbed it, fingers lightly lingering on top of Tokiya’s hand, was sure to mean a thank you. After cleaning each other and redressing themselves, Masato, out of impulse, took Tokiya by his chin and kissed him, hoping to wash away any uncertainty that might have remained, before getting up to put away the used towels. As he waltzed back, he saw a quite sleepy Tokiya laid down on the futon, extending his hand for Masato to take, to welcome him back to their own heaven.

            And who was Masato to not take it?

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic to aki (doriavellan on twitter), I promised I'd write her a tokimasa♡ I'm not a big fan of the ship, but that fic made me reconsider it a lot. Also, the scenario and such are all based on their episode in season 3, in which they go to a trip together and all. I think Masato and Tokiya are very much alike, and Masato finds himself to be extremely comfortable around him. What might be a little OOC would be Tokiya fawning over Masato, but I suppose that it is just me actually fawning over him. Moreover, I get a little (too) poetic when writing Masato. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you can't leave a small comment! ;v;
> 
> As always, I'm berskur/aimasa @ tumblr, berskurs @ twitter. 
> 
> PS: I'm planning on writing a multi-chaptered renmasa mermaid AU and a renmasa coffee shop AU one shot. Probably the latter will come first but it will take a while! heh


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